


Hunger

by fandramatics



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandramatics/pseuds/fandramatics
Summary: Four times Dracula tastes Agatha, not her blood though.
Relationships: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Comments: 12
Kudos: 112





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mood_adlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mood_adlock/gifts).



> Wonderful mood-adlock asked the gods for a fanfic based on Jay's post about how Dracula loves to eat Agatha out.  
> I'm the gods.

Her cheeks are burning up, her nipples standing hard. She wants to cast aside whatever she’s wearing. Lips in her neck are what draw her attention, make her open her eyes. 

A sigh escapes her when she finds his body moving over hers. He’s trailing kisses down her body. 

Her nightgown skirt is already pooled around her waist. His hand is caressing the inside of her thigh as if he wished to calm an animal down. He avoids her breasts, moves back enough so his hand can reach and expose the rest of her body to him, a dirty smile appearing in his lips. He looks hungry.

Darkened eyes rise to meet hers. “Good morning,” his voice comes out hoarse, he takes her breast into his mouth, tastes flesh as a starving man would. Teeth grazing, teasing.

Agatha feels his touch brush the inside of her leg and the next thing she knows she’s undulating beneath him. His digits touch her over her underwear, finds her wetter than she expected to be. He tears fabric away without thinking, lets his fingers explore her opening as if it is the first time he touches her like that.

Dracula lets go of her breast, he glances down to his hand, raises wet fingers, coated with her juices. The Devil would have a softer smile than him at that moment.

His head is between her legs fast, his tongue is teasing her folds open, tasting every inch. He savors her core as he savors blood, one would say he even is more passionate about the former.

“Very,” he kisses her clit, teases with the tip of his tongue, “good morning.”

He takes her legs on his shoulders, wraps his arms around her thighs. And then he sinks into the center of her as if she is a dessert served for him, made by the finest in the world.

There are no coherent thoughts in her mind. She’s arching off the bed, her fingers tugging at his hair, the sounds escaping her only encouraging him further. And with every delighted growl, he makes her wetter. When her body tries to escape his ministrations, he traps her further.

Her nails start digging. She might hurt him, but if she does, he doesn’t care.

Agatha cries out, walls clenching, her eyes closing tight.

As she pants, he moves up her body, kisses her full on the mouth. She tastes herself in his mouth, her hands reaching between them in desperate movements, searching for fabric she can pull away or tear apart.

Her core is still pulsating and she wants him inside of her, pounding as hard as he devoured her.

But when he breaks the kiss and kneels on the bed, his gaze lowers to the state he left her in, and he smiles.

“That’s a nice way to start a day,” he says, tilts his head and meets her eyes. “Breakfast?”

He’s out of the bed and the room before she can find the breath to protest.

Agatha’s eyes shut close and she groans.


	2. ii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been writing properly lately, but yesterday this piece came to me. It made blind until I was finished, while reading it again I caught myself smirking.  
> I hope I make you smile too.

His signature scent filled the study and her nostrils. She closed her eyes tight, rolled them beneath the eyelids, and bit her lower lip. When her gaze found the yellow page of the book she had been reading there was warmth close to the curve of her neck.

“Interesting reading?” the Count’s voice asked. His breath smelled of mint and she could tell he had walked out of the shower, gotten dressed, and come to her. He made the whole room fresh.

His dark irises found the book on the subject of her studies and, in her mind’s eye, she could picture the smile he gave. A devious smirk, one that always told her she’d never hear the end of whatever it was that he had found.

“Succubi and incubi,” he read, “now that’s an interesting read. Any creature of the kind tormenting you? I’d be happy to tear them to pieces for you.”

“I was under the impression I had married one.” She sneered, closing the book, unwilling to give him any further material to taunt her with.

“An interesting thought if you ask me,” he said, standing straight. “I wouldn’t mind coming to you at night to fuck you to exhaustion. I’d give you time enough to recover before we could have fun again.”

“Is there a reason for this interruption, Count?” she intervened, rearranging the loose leaves of paper she had been scribbling on, trying to take notes as soon as she drew conclusions out of the legends.

“Is there a better reason than wanting to see my wife?” he offered.

She glanced over her shoulder, stared deep into his eyes. “I won’t be done for a while. Don’t mind me, I can take perfect care of myself.”

“So you said the first day this research started,” he declared.

“Well, nothing has changed.” Van Helsing faced her notes once more. “Close the door on your way out.”

There was a moment of silence, then she heard him click his tongue.

“I’d take you to the castle, keep you around,” he said, tipped his head and made a face as he envisioned the possibilities. “Wouldn’t want you to leave.”

“What are you going on about?” she questioned.

“If I was an incubus.” He replied. “You’d make a pleasant meal, might as well keep you around if your life essence tasted any good as your blood.”

She snorted. “You couldn’t make my blood last and you think you’d have the self-control to be an incubus when you come here every day to interrupt me?”

“I don’t always come here for sex.” He protested without much conviction. “And I made you last good long weeks. Unfortunately, you had to be a party-popper and ruin all the fun. We could have made it to England together if you had behaved.”

“And what then?” She challenged.

“I’d have come up with something.” He assured. “Now, if we may go back to the point…”

“You’d have me dead in a week.”

Dracula leaned again, drew her hair away from her neck, planted a petulant open-mouthed kiss on her cheek, teeth grazing at her flesh. “I do know how to enjoy sweet torture.”

She pulled away. “Please, you wouldn’t make it through the week. It’s a shock you had so little heirs.”

“We can work on that, there’s still time to leave more of them.” He had a nail tug at her shirt, pulling it to the side to reveal her shoulder. “It’d be an interesting challenge to seduce a nun in the middle of the nunnery. Though, from what I recall, you never were the best nun around. Sister Rosa, was it? If I had realized before you had a taste for the ladies I might have tried a different approach.”

The Count inched closer, breath caressing her before she stood up and away from him, pushing her chair back. Agatha shot him a glance over her shoulder, then spun around.

That was her mistake.

He grinned, but she lost sight of it the next moment, for he trapped her against the desk, advanced further until she was forced to sit on the wooden surface. Her backside hadn’t even properly found the desk when his hands undid her pants, ruining buttons and zippers, tearing at her panties and offering her no peace until he had her pants down to her knees and his fingers spreading her folds.

Brown eyes stared dead into her blue ones. “Interesting read indeed.”

Dracula knelt, torn the remains of her jeans and grabbed her hips, brought them to his reach. He got her legs over his shoulders and met her core with an explorative tongue and a hungry mouth.

The Dracula Countess saw darkness behind her eyelids, her thoughts were stolen away by the sensation of her husband’s ministrations on her. Instinct had her fail her resolve and grab at the back of his head, playing with his hair, giving in to the pleasure he caused.

The damned creature dared to chuckle against her, his voice bringing her back and making her eyes snap open. A feral growl came from deep down her throat. The beast in her made few appearances when they weren’t feeding, but he managed to provoke it out of its corners during their couplings more often than Agatha liked.

She cursed under her breath, something he missed the meaning, but sneered at her tone.

The Count had her wet and burning under his mouth. He could tell she still fought to contain her noises but made a decision to hear all of them before he was through with her. The tugging at his hair was familiar, the shaking of her legs contradicted her clenched jaw and the fiery gaze he could sense her shooting at him whenever she could concentrate.

What a gorgeous sight she made, half furious, half horny. He had half a mind to spin her around and mount her from behind, have her over those damned notes she always took. Ruin the damned project that stole her away from him for days. It would do well to have her sore and tired, with his seed inside her as a reminder of who she had married and who she belonged to.

An incubus would never undo her control like that.

Hard inside his pants, he devoured her thoroughly. Teeth grazing at delicate flesh, tongue spreading her open and tasting every inch he could find, mouth suckling on her over and over.

Agatha’s soft cries served only as an incentive, her traitorous body having her bring him closer, seeking his touch as if it was necessary for her existence. Her nails threatening to dig in the back of his head.

And then he stood, smiling like the Devil. Lips wet with her juices. Their eyes met and their gaze held. The Count guided two fingers inside of her, wasted no time before he started moving them inside and out of her burning grip. A third finger and his movements grew faster, harder. His dark irises savoring the changes to her features and her breathing.

He had every desire to be buried in her as deep as possible, yet there was something too enticing on the way he had her crumbling under his touch alone. It was too much for him to let the opportunity slide. He’d have her come around his fingers. He’d have time to mount her, claim her as his as he had done many times before. For now, he wanted something else, the game was another.

When Agatha came undone he took her mouth, kissed her so deep she felt as exposed as if she was entirely naked.

They weren’t done, they were far from done. There was still a lot going on behind his darkened pupils. No, they weren’t done. He’d have her as many times as he could, she could tell, and he would make her need every second of it until she laid spent on their bed, unable to feel her legs or rise to her feet.

Any chance of further studying was gone for the day, her rational mind knew that. And the beast inside her grinned at the thought, it longed for its mate. It made her wrap her arms around his neck, draw him closer, and savored the feeling of his dressed erection against her body. She’d make as much of a mess of him as he would make of her. He’d know no name but hers by the end of the night.

The Count took his Countess, kissed her one last time before carrying her to their bedroom.


	3. iii.

His lips went dry and he had to wet them when he saw her in that evening dress. The cut and the colors flattered her figure, it made him proud of his choice for her evening wear.

The Count closed the cabin door, locking it before he strode to her. He stepped behind her, watched her through the mirror. He laid his hands on her hips. “What a gorgeous sight.” 

She met his eyes, he saw her clenching her jaw. “Enjoy it while you can,” she replied, “as soon as dinner is over, I’m going to bed. And you better behave.”

His grin widened, he stepped in front of her, touched her chin to have her raise her head to him. “Such rough words…” He clicked his tongue, then brushed their lips together. “Perhaps if I showed my appreciation some other way…”

His hand reached for the front of her dress, the fabric rustling as he drew it out of the way. The Count rose his eyebrows at her in a silent question.

Agatha narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I’d be willing?”

“I think the sight of me on my knees for you could interest you,” he observed.

“You’re not doing this for me, you enjoy this just as much,” she said.

“Still doesn’t mean you don’t. Well? May I?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, then shifted, parting her legs. 

Agatha watched as he knelt in front of her, his eyes focused on hers. She kept the skirt out of his way, studied as he caressed her inner thighs over her drawers. “Come, boy. Suckle.”

He resembled a dog, obeying her as fast as she ordered. Dracula kissed her slit, teased her open with his tongue, revealing fold by fold, tasting everything he could. Her knees trembled when he caught her clit between his lips.

“Bed,” she hissed, pulling away.

He growled against her flesh, hands catching her hips and pulling her back to him, unwilling to let go of his treat.

“Count Dracula!”

Dracula pulled her down hard. Next thing Agatha knew her knees ached and she had to get her skirt out of the way to find his head lost in between her thighs. She had to reach for the floor for support, for he didn’t seem to care in the slightest if she could suffocate him between her legs. “Damned beast!”

He hummed in response, vibrating against her nub and making the former nun release a noise he enjoyed too much for her liking. He broke away, met her eyes. “You’ll sit at dinner knowing this ‘beast’ had your cunt for an appetizer.”

Had he not rushed to suckle on her hard, she would have retorted. As it was, her body settled for trying to escape his hold, unable to handle the stimulus. Her thighs shaking, and he drew her closer, devouring every inch he could reach. The wet noises he produced a sin on itself.

His nails threatened to dig on her buttocks. He smiled against her skin. “Aren’t you a gorgeous sight riding my face? I don’t know if I like you riding my cock better, I could watch both for eternity.”

Her hand slammed against the floor. “Crude bastard!”

The Count sneered, he started to say something, but she fought his hold.

“If you want us to finish this, you won’t say another word!”

Dracula grinned, shook his head, brought her back into place. Caressed her core with his tongue, teasing with his fingers. Her juices a taste he couldn’t get enough of. He loved to have her wrapped around his prick, yet something is enticing in the way he had her dripping in his mouth.

He muttered a word of approval and bid his time, savoring. Her fingers playing with strands of his hair. The sighs that escaped her, the whines he delighted on. He uttered something she ignored, lost in the sensation he was causing.

Agatha cried out, he caught her, ready. He drew out every wave of pleasure he could, drank his fill of her juices, then watched her trying to come back to herself when he was done.

“Agatha,” he shifted beneath her, moved her only enough for him to sit up, stole a kiss from her lips, finding little resistance.

She broke them apart. “Dinner.” 

She shot up, but he caught the moment she had to step a second time to get her footing right.

The Count smiled as he watched her sway away.


End file.
